Little brown sparrow,
 
how many songs can you sing
 
to celebrate spring?

 

 
 
 

Little brown sparrow,
 
have you composed a new song
 
for Easter morning?

 

 
 
 

Midwinter surprise—
 
in my left shoe a cricket
 
chirrs a morning song!

 
 
 

refrigerator
 
humming a song to itself—
 
autumn loneliness

 
 
 

What song’s left to sing
 
now that all the maple trees
 
have cast off their leaves?

 
 
 

An old man’s pet dove
 
perches on his left shoulder,
 
cooing morning songs.

 
 
 

Listen! the cricket
 
in the old stone Buddha’s lap
 
strikes up a new song.

 
 
 

Summer afternoon—
 
the quilter stitches a song
 
into her design.

 
 
 

Little brown sparrow,
 
at midnight I start waiting
 
for your morning song.

 
 
 

In a time of plague,
 
one yellow rose in a vase—
 
this will be my song.